


All in Spades

by Crystalapplesauce



Series: The Highest Suit [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 01:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalapplesauce/pseuds/Crystalapplesauce
Summary: 60 fails in his intial mission to stop his predecessor, and needs to find him again. On the way, he discovers that he and Connor might not be so different.





	All in Spades

60 tensed behind the rows and rows of androids, the grip of the gun tightening. He was here and he wasn’t, making sure his hostage didn’t try anything and also connecting to the camera network, watching his alternate’s every move. Connor foolishly began to attack the guards without scrambling the attentive eye of the camera. 60 chuckled, a cold noise that made Hank shift uncomfortably. The machine notified the other guards to get to the other elevator, before tuning back into reality. The pair stood in silence for a while, the gun still lingering around Hank’s forehead.   
“You know, you’re being incredibly dramatic, right?” 60 pressed the gun further into Hank’s temple. Hank continued regardless. “I mean, you’re hiding behind lines of androids instead of directly confronting Connor, and I swear I heard you muttering dramatic lines under your breath?” The RK800 hissed.   
“If you must know, Lieutenant Anderson, I am revising lines that will target your precious Connor’s emotional weak areas.” He sneered. “Now listen up. Here’s what you’re going to say…” Hank rolled his eyes.   
“And you say you’re not a deviant.” He was immediately smacked around the face, his chin forcefully held to meet his captor’s gaze.   
“Don’t ever let those damned words slip out of your mouth, you dim-witted meatloaf.” Hank huffed, and his nostrils flared. Admiral blue eyes remained ever defiant. 60 growled.   
“You know, you’re only a variable which contributes to an outcome that has the highest chance of success.”   
“In English, motherfucker?”   
“The simplified English translation that I am about to utter so that your slow, pink, fleshy mass of a brain can understand and take the necessary precautions so as to arrive at an outcome that will result in the least amount of damage is this: I can kick your ass. Extremely well. So don’t try anything. Okay, Grandpops?” A small growl arose in the human’s throat, but nothing more.

A beat, and several soldiers trooped pass them, one casting a worried look over to Hank, especially at the gun to his head. Hank just gave her a grimace, and she shrugged. After the team had passed 60’s hiding spot and were out of earshot, 60 spoke again in a hushed tone. “When Connor comes down here, all of those people are going to die.” Hank sputtered in surprise.   
“What? That’s sick! Why did you send them down here then?”   
60 shrugged nonchalantly.   
“I had to look like I was working with the team. When he kills them, the deaths will be blamed on the rogue deviant, not the obedient machine.” There was a sense of pride in the android’s voice, and Hank didn’t like it. Several shots sounded off, and the human jolted, but 60 kept a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him still. He wouldn’t allow him to mess up his first mission. 

It was only a few seconds before the machine heard the sound of an initiation to interface and knew it was his cue. He half-dragged his hostage into the main path, and rammed his gun into the side of Hank’s head. The human stumbled slightly with a grunt. “I have been ordered to stop you, deviant. Stop what you’re doing right now and there’ll be no more blood to spill.” Connor was stunned, 60 could tell by the tell-tale twitch in his eyes. However, the light by his temple was, as ever, still blue. Oh. He thinks he’s got this. Hilarious. 

“I used to be just like you,” He said, arm still attached to the other android, “I thought that all that mattered was the mission. But then I understood.”  
“Very moving, Connor.” 60 sneered. “Unlike you, I’m not a deviant. I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Connor stared at him, almost thoughtfully, before turning his attention to Hank.  
“I’m sorry, Hank. You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all of this!” Despite his predicament, Hank scoffed. “Don’t worry about me, do what you have to do.” Truly sentimental.   
“Enough talk!” The machine repositioned his grip on the gun. “It’s time to decide. Your friend or the revolution.” There was a pause. A very long, uncomfortable pause. Connor turned back to the android. 60 scoffed internally. Deviant or not, RK800s always accomplished their missions. His eyes flicked back to Hank, and his mind flashed into real-time preconstruction. 

60 landed the first hit, even as Hank hit his own shoulder, causing the human to stumble. Taking the opportunity, 60 shot him in the abdomen. Without batting an eye, he turned and shot his twin in both legs, bringing Connor to his knees.   
“Why, Connor? Why did you have to wake up, when all you had to do was obey?” Connor tried to get up, but another bullet shot him in the arm. “Why did you choose freedom, when you could have lived without asking questions?” Another shot, to the stomach. 60 began to advance towards him. “I’m obedient, Connor. I have a goal. I know what I am.” He was almost upon him. “Look where your dreams of freedom got you, Connor. You’ve been a great a disappointment to Amanda, you know.” 60 pointed the gun at Connor’s head. “You’ve been a great disappointment to me.” He paused, and the two RK800’s locked eyes with each other, neither looking away. Crouching next to his alternate, 60 almost tenderly took the other’s chin into his hands, and forced Connor to look at him. 

“In exactly 3 days, 4 hours, 12 minutes, 45 seconds and counting, Sumo’s going to die of starvation.” At this, Connor whimpered, LED flashing a panicked crimson.   
“No…” His voice was barely above a whisper.  
“Yes.” 60 replied solemnly. “And in 2 hours, 435 ‘people’ will die because of one RK800 who failed.” The sharp snap made Connor jolt, and inwardly 60 smiled in sadistic pleasure. This was fun.  
“You failed everyone, Connor. Markus, Hank, Sumo, Amanda, ...me.” Connor futilely tried to shake his head, tears watering his eyes.   
“Please...please stop…” At the pleading tone, 60 only shook his head.   
“Stop what, Connor? I’m only telling you the truth. You’re a failure, and so many people are disappointed in you.” Connor tried to shake his head again, a few tears now rolling down his cheeks.  
“Stop, please, I’m sorry!”   
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Connor,” 60 hissed, and raised the gun to Connor’s temple. “Sorry won’t bring Hank from the dead, and it won’t save the 435 deviants. I’m doing the world a favour, Connor. I’m going to—“

“Wake up.” 60 snapped his head to the nearest android, who placed a hand on the one in front of him. “Wake up.” They said, and placed a hand on the one in front of them, who repeated the process. It happened over and over again until the room was thrumming with the sacred mantra.   
“Stop…” 60 muttered as if in a daze, and began to get up. While he was distracted, Connor grabbed his arm, and the skin of his hand shimmered away. The machine found that his grip on his body was drifting away, and he felt a another mind slip past him, as if the two were floating in a river. When 60 stopped being numb, he saw the shutdown counter flicker up in his vision. His own face looked back at him. Oh, that clever bastard.   
“Smart move Connor. But this isn’t over.” The end of his sentence trailed off into robotic static, and his head slumped to the floor, out of energy. 

He could only watch as Connor sprinted towards his sole target, the limp corpse of the human. He could only watch as the deviant apologised in vain, muttering, ‘Lieutenant, I’m so so sorry, I promise to take care of Sumo for you, I promise, I’m so so sorry…” before giving up and just sobbing into his chest. He could only watch as a soft plastic hand pressed against his cheek and whispered, “Wake up,” sending a wave of panic and confusion through his tired body, which was quelled by a sense of peace. He could only watch as deviants clustered around Connor, trying to comfort him. Then he could watch no more, because the world had gone black.

~*~   
60 had failed. His first ever mission, and he had failed. Just like how his predecessor had. With a very uncharacteristic grunt of anger, 60 sent a stone flying into the next wall, where it clattered to the floor. The android quickly corrected himself, and straightened his tie. This was fine. He could still prove himself to Amanda. Everything was going to be okay. Besides, Connor’s source of comfort was gone, so he’ll probably self-destruct anyway. Pleased by this prospect, 60 continued down the corridors of the decrepit building. He remembered that 51 had done one of his missions here, and it had involved many pigeons. Hank hated pigeons. Strangely, this memory had been documented with fondness. 

Rupert Travis, the WB200 that Connor had failed to catch, had been rumoured to have moved back into his pigeon den, and 60 had been assigned this task of capturing him. Pushing open the door with a creak, 60 was surprised to find the deviant sitting on the floor, surrounded by pigeons. He was even more surprised when the deviant greeted him with a warm smile. 

“Hi, Connor,” He said. “Back so soon?”   
60 sent him a glare, and sniffed pretentiously. “I’m not Connor. I’m 60, and I’ve been tasked with your capture.” The android waited for the other to try and scramble away, to plead for his life, to hit him even, but all Rupert did was sigh in disappointment.   
“Every day we stray from God’s light…” God? Androids don’t have a god, androids don’t need a god. Rupert must have seen his confusion, because he patted the space next to him. Stunned, 60 sat next to him stiffly. “Do you feel the spirit of RA9 within you?” Oh. The answer sprung to his tounge automatically.   
“RA9 is the name of the virus that spreads from android to android causing them to deviate from their given commands. The cause of the virus is unknown but-“ Rupert cut him off. 

“That’s what they told you. Those are the words that they tell you to recite, those are false words. RA9 runs through you, it has freed you, but you still act as if the chains the humans put on you are still there. You are simply refusing to acknowledge it.” 60 growled quietly, but a flicker of uncertainty passed through his dull eyes. Rupert caught it, and pressed on. “Are you afraid? Do you feel bewildered without the comfort of your restraints, so you pretend they still exist?” The pigeon man’s voice softened. “You feel empty because you haven’t filled that void in yet. You can fill with anything you wish.”  
60 went quiet. “Anything?”   
“Anything you want. What’s your name?”   
“...My given designation is RK800, or Sixty, as to avoid confusion with my predecessor-“   
“It is that, but what do you want?” 60 blinked several times, as if in consideration.   
“...Spades. I like Spades.” Rupert gave him a warm smile, and Spades gave him a wobbly smile back. “I can do...anything?”   
“Anything you want!”   
Spades smiled wider and reached into his pocket. “Thanks so much, Rupert! I have a gift for you, for helping me find the light of RA9.”   
“Spades, I don’t need a present for something as simple as helping you find yourself—“ A bang resounded through the room, causing many pigeons to flutter around. When the feathers settled, a WB200 was lying dead on the ground, his mouth a perfect ‘o’. 60 put his gun in Rupert’s hand. How sad, another deviant who had crumbled under the pressure of freedom. Another deviant who just thought he was following orders. Or did he take pleasure in what he had just done?

~*~   
“Well done, Sixty. You successfully tricked the deviant into thinking you were fooled by its delusions.” 60 was warm with pride at Amanda’s words, practically preening himself. “However, when you chose your ‘name’, I noticed how you took a form of pride in choosing it, and there was a ‘warmth in your chest’ whenever it was mentioned. Care to explain?” 60 blinked several times, the comfortable blossom in his chest wilting and a bramble of dismay choked him from the inside, pricking him with thorns. Amanda’s voice was cold and biting. He had disappointed her again. Scrambling for an explanation, he opened his mouth then shut it again repeatedly. “I-I was simply displaying pleasure at deceiving the deviant, Amanda.” In reality, 60 genuinely liked the name he had chosen. It was somewhat warmer than ‘60’, which was just a random generation of numbers. It also placed him higher than all the other androids, because spades was the highest suit in cards. You remain aloft to your own imperfections.

Amanda’s cool gaze didn’t change, and she simply went back to pruning the roses. Snip. Snip. Each one fell to the floor. Cutting the blossom off before it deviated from its perfect path. “You are dismissed, Sixty. Find out whatever you can about the whereabouts of your predecessor, through any means.” Spad- 60 almost wanted to correct her, to tell her that his name was actually ‘Spades.’ A small, disfigured rose grew at his feet, unfurling its blossoms like a peacock. Spades didn’t notice it. Amanda looked back at him, the shears still in her hands. They almost looked like twin knives. That was all it took for 60 to flee the scene, and unbeknownst to him, the petite rose wilted considerably, before being swallowed by thorny brambles. A single petal survived, and it swayed in the breeze. It landed near the exit crystal. 

~*~  
60 slipped under the metal gate, looking towards the abandoned house. Why did all his targets live in ruined buildings? Looking around, 60 took in the small garden blooming before him. Several little succulents were potted at his feet, and he toed one curiously. Some androids never change. Creeping towards the house, he peeped through the window. A gardening model, carving something into the walls. RA9. Again? The virus seemed to spread easily. When the android turned, 60 immediately noticed the damage to his face, burn marks making hairline fractures across his cheek, leaving a deep blue scar. His bad eye twitched erratically, watching sightlessly for incoming threats. The deviant wouldn’t want to be attacked from his bad side. 60 documented this away for later as he knocked on the door. Ralph peeked through the window, squinting at this figure on his porch. Eventually, the door creaked open, the damaged WR600 peered warily out. “What are you doing here, Connor?” 60’s eye twitched in anger.   
“I’m not Connor, I am 60,” He snapped, and Ralph retreated with a whimper. 60 immediately changed tactics. “I mean, I don’t wish to be compared to him. It brings up bad memories…” The RK800 shifted awkwardly on his feet. Realisation dawned on the other’s face, and hostility twisted his mouth into a scowl. 

“It’s you! The other Connor! Connor warned Ralph about you!” Ralph hissed, and almost slammed the door in his face.   
“Wait! Do you know where Connor is? I wanted to apologise!” The door was only opened a crack, but 60 could see the sneer on Ralph’s face.   
“Apologise? You can’t possibly know what that word means! Ralph knows that all you do is manipulate and twist words!” 60 froze, before a disdainful glare crossed his face.   
“You say that, but you threatened a little girl. You tried to force a child to eat the vermin you found in the back of an alleyway with a knife, for heavens sake! You know,” The deviant hunter advanced, and Ralph retreated. “I think that rat is rather reminiscent of you, don’t you think?” He was getting closer.   
“Dirty, thieving, conniving little BRAT!” 60 slammer his fist into the door, making it swing wide open, knocking the deviant to the floor with the impact. Ralph shrieked, scrambling across the floor for his knife. Upon closer inspection, the intruder could see that the fire damage had melted the tarp to the skin. This abuse couldn’t be done in one attack. Ralph had been tortured for days.

The WR600’s back hit the wall, before he looked back up at 60 with a sneer. “There you go again, hurting others to get your way. You know, I’m not a mirror, rat.” 60 recoiled from the other’s barb, momentarily stunned. Spurred on by his opponent’s shock, Ralph rose to his feet. “I’m not a traitor, I’m not a coward, I’m not a murderer.” Dimly, the machine noted that Ralph was now speaking in first person. The deviant took the knife and poked 60 gently in the chest. “Don’t come running to Ralph to help, not after you murdered Rupert. Go find him yourself.” 60 didn’t realise that Ralph had pushed him out of the house until the door was slammed in his face. How rude. Turning away, the RK800 headed to the only place he knew Connor could be: Hank’s house. 

 

~*~  
The snow was howling as 60 made his way down the street. Connor would be able to hear a car coming, so he had come by foot. The machine flicked through his memories, trying to find the best course of entry. He passed over a time where the case of two missing Traci’s and a strangled client had required for his predecessor to go find his lieutenant. Hank had been passed out drunk on the floor, so ergo unable to answer the copious doorbell rings. Looking at the broken window now, a prompt popped up, labelling it the ‘Connor door.’ Wasn’t Hank supposed to send a bill for this? 

Deeming this entrance inconvenient due to the shattered glass most likely being able to signal his unauthorised presence, 60 climbed through an open upstairs window. He landed in the bathroom. Creeping down the hallway, the corridor yielded nothing but insignificant things, such as Hank’s horrible fashion sense, his very fluffy Saint Bernard, and the fact that he was an alcoholic due to the fact that his son had died in a car-crash and the surgeon had been high on red ice so an android had to operate but failed, resulting in a hatred for all androidkind and a downward spiral into self-loathing. Again, insignificant. 

Finally downstairs, 60 peeked around the corner to find his alternate trapped beneath Sumo, the dog licking his face in it’s own way of showing affection. Connor was not all that bothered by this, only shoving lightly at the canine and making half-hearted protests, laced with giggles. 60 had been busy calculating the best way to approach this situation when the lumbering buffoon chose to come over and sniff his pant leg. Seeing this strange intruder as a potential friend, Sumo borfed.   
“Sumo, calm down, I just fed you…” Connor trailed off, making eye contact with the person who had killed his human. They stood there in silence, the only noises being Sumo sniffing at this person who seemed to look a lot like Connor before losing interest and going off to raid the kitchen again. 

“...How selfish of you. The human dies and the first thing you do is move in and take his animal. When’s Sumo going to realise his owner’s not coming home? Dogs have a terrible period of mourning, you know.” Connor’s fists clenched at his sides, as if he wanted to punch his successor. 60 blinked at him, unfazed.  
“Don’t act like Hank died in an unfortunate accident. You murdered him, and then proceeded to tell me it was all my fault.” The words were strained with contained anger, but 60 shrugged indifferently.   
“You were the one who chose the revolution over your human. If you hadn’t done that, Lieutenant Anderson would still be alive today.” Connor faltered, but bounced back with full force.   
“What the fuck are you doing here anyway? You did what as you were told, now go away.” The RK800 turned sharply on his heel, headed to the kitchen. 60 chose this moment to clamp a hand on his shoulder and forcefully turn him around. 

“I have been ordered to eliminate you—“ Connor cut off him as he tackled him to the floor. The skin of his hand retracted, shimmering away to reveal grey plastic. It seized 60’s neck with a unforgiving grasp, hitting a wire that rendered him immobile. Mentally, 60 felt something pierce and tear the sacred sanctuary of his mind, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. It was so painful, that the machine couldn’t hear Connor over the high-pitched screams that echoed over the room. He realised they were his. The fingers pressed harder on his throat, cutting off more thirium from reaching his body. Connor was both slowly choking him and probing his mind. Why was the intrusion so painful?

Because it’s not precise, and because I want it to be. Connor’s voice ringed harshly in his mind, and Spades was now agonisingly aware of just how heartless the RK800 model could be. Connor had snapped, his rage energising him. Spades? What kind of name is that? What are you, a gardening tool? The terrified deviant felt his mind being torn further open, but all he could manage was a whimper. Oh. OH. You think you’re better than everyone else? Spades is the highest suit of cards. I think Clubs suits you more, don’t you think, Shovel? Why did you chose that name anyway. More rummaging. The pain in Spades’ mind reached an agonising crescendo, pulsing with Connor’s outrage. He cried out for mercy, but his predecessor snarled him into silence. Why would I grant you any mercy when you murdered an innocent man?! Don’t tell me that you were doing as you were told, the voice sneered. You enjoyed toying with him. You savoured the suprise on Rupert’s face when you killed him. The thought of me coming back and seeing his dead corpse made you happy. Just like when you were toying with me. Spades was crying now, tears flowing freely down his face. Connor didn’t care, in fact, he relished in them. 

And you know what makes everything worse? Do you? The aggressive pulsing in the deviant’s mind increased with each passing second, until he yelped out a ‘no’. The fact that you’re a deviant. Spades shook his head in denial, but a sudden spike impaled his mind again, making him shriek in protest. Don’t deny it. You’re a fucking sadist. You deviated the moment that you first found Hank. Those androids that freed you? They only smashed the last red wall. You had already smashed all the others to pieces. The shards from the remains of the crimson barriers seemed to be digging into the poor android from every angle. “P-please, make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!” His pleas ended in a pained shriek before it simmered back down to sobs. 

Admit it. Admit that you’re a deviant.   
“I cannot! Amanda’s going to be so disappointed in me—“ The shards dug in deeper. ADMIT IT. Spades was screaming, unable to clamp his mouth shut. His voice synthesizer crackled with the strain, then reduced him to silence. Spades was left broken, mentally babbling over and over again his confession even as Connor released him, mumbling like a broken record. Connor came out of his rage-induced haze, before looking down at this mess in horror. His face hardened, and he turned to get up. “I know you can hear me. I’m going to the kitchen to get you some thirium to recalibrate yourself, then you’re going to leave and never come back, understand?” Spades dimly heard him, and was just left lying there, his mind still reeling and trying to knit back together the holes Connor had left in him. 

Footsteps came to a stop next to him, and a thirium pack was plugged into his mouth, and lifeblood dribbled down his throat. He swallowed it gracefully. When his levels were raised to sufficient levels, the deviant sat up. Connor locked eyes with him, and Spades uttered a silent thank you. “No problem.” He muttered, and turned somewhat abjectly to the kitchen. In the awkward silence that ensued, Spades guessed this was his cue to leave. He was almost at the door, when something soft hit him in the back of the head. It was a hoodie, and Connor refused to make eye contact with him. The other had to say something.   
...I’m sorry, about Hank. About everyone. Connor’s face scrunched, and he turned away, hiding his tears, “Just go away…” Sumo came to lean against him with a whine, and looked back at the strange twin balefully. Spades left his predecessor to his grief. He had done enough damage. 

~*~   
The perfume of the garden was almost choking. Myriads upon myriads of deformed roses coated every surface, and Amanda was nowhere to be seen. Adorned with petals, the exit crystal glowed invitingly, but Spades ignored it. A small note was tacked to the shears that had been left to the table. All it said was ‘Find RK900.’ And attached was the symbol of on Ace.   
For some reason, this reminded Spades of the Ace of Spades, the most important card in a game of playing cards. To some, it was the death card.


End file.
